


to be her wings at night

by RecordRewind



Category: Maleficent (2014)
Genre: F/M, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Nightmares
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-03
Updated: 2014-06-03
Packaged: 2018-02-03 07:56:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,207
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1737125
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RecordRewind/pseuds/RecordRewind
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Maleficent has troubles sleeping without nightmares. Diaval tries to be of help.</p>
            </blockquote>





	to be her wings at night

**Author's Note:**

> Watched the movie, loved the Maleficent and Diaval interaction (beside all the rest), had to write this.
> 
> I think Diaval spends half his times looking for ways to annoy his Mistress, and the other half looking for ways to care for her best he can.
> 
> Warning for description of nightmares.

The dreams were the worst part.

Maleficent could deal with the pain. She had, until the sensation, like twin daggers stabbing into her shoulder-blades, had dulled into a throbbing burn that stung her when she moved her arms too wide, whenever her back tried to flex muscles and joints that weren't there anymore. She had learnt to ignore all that.

Maleficent could deal with the _other_ pain as well. She took the sorrow and anger and sharpened them into needle-thin, steel-strong resolve. She made them into weapons at the service of her realm. The Moors needed her and needed her stronger than ever. She wouldn't let her people down, so she had learnt to use all that.

But the dreams...

-

_She is so young and she is happy, she is flying, cold wind hitting her smile, strands of clouds clinging to her dress as she cuts through them, somersaulting in the sky, high enough the sun feels barely out of touch. She laughs in exhilaration, and dives down, down, down_

_And even in the dream, she knows what is going to happen next, and her smile becomes a frozen mask_

-

Maleficent's lips were pressed too tight to let a whimper escape through them. A shiver ran through her whole body. She slept with her arms wrapped around herself as she lied among the stone ruins, far from the soft ground near the lake. There, nobody could see her, and she would worry nobody. 

Almost nobody.

Diaval shifted his weight from one leg to the other. He was perched on the lowest branch of the only tree growing in the ruins, a charcoal-colored old thing, its bark so brittle it broke between his claws. He wouldn't take his eyes off the shape of his Mistress. He knew her sleep was troubled, and was ready to bet a feather or two about the reason. Maleficent never spoke to him of her dreams or nightmares, and the only time he had tried suggesting she could fix herself some potion using the herbs of the Moors, to help her sleep more soundly she had rebuffed him. She wouldn't risk having her guard down, when their enemies could strike any day or night. And so she endured the nightmares, and woke up every day more tired than the one before (and she wouldn't have him point that out either. I chose you to be my wings, not my talking cricket, she would say)

Stubborn fairy, Diaval sighed, shaking his head.

She shuddered again, hard, then stiffened, her fingers digging hard into her arms. Her breath was labored, and she was frowning, drops of cold sweat lining her brow. Diaval stared down at her, feeling his worry increase. Tonight was worse than usual. 

He debated if he should try and wake her. The one time he did, she had almost lashed at him, before recognizing him. He could be thankful she had regained her control almost immediately, or he would be magically roasted bird by now. She had ordered him not to do that again.

But he couldn't stand to see her like this...

The raven made up his mind, and spread his wings, to swoop down and land next to his Mistress.

-

_She is falling, the wings on her back are useless, heavy like rocks, cold like ice, they are as good as gone_

_They_ are _gone and she opens her mouth to scream but no sound reach her ears_

_Falling and falling and never hitting the ground there's nothing left but the fall_

__

Maleficent was displaced, a part of her mind crawled desperately towards consciousness, the other was too entangled in the nightmare, lost too deep to resurface. She could feel herself lying on her side against the cold stone, and at the same time she was falling. She couldn't see anymore in her dream, her eyes sealed by eyelids heavy with slumber, she was about to hit the ground...

Something brushed her cheek. Dry, soft, solid. A protective shadow covered her face.

She held her breath, and even as she was unconscious she remembered

_she was floating now_

how when she was a child, and nightmares woke her up, she used to cuddle against her tree and wrap the wings around herself like a cocoon, like an egg. Warm, dark, and safe. 

Nothing could reach her, in the gentle embrace of her feathers. Nothing could harm her.

It was barely a ghost of a caress on her skin, yet the touch was enough to bring forward the memory, and her mind clung to it like to a lifeline. It was enough the break her fall.

Maleficent's breath slowed down to a steady rhythm, as she sank into a merciful, dreamless slumber.

-

The feathers were still there, tickling her lips and nose, when she opened her eyes in the morning, together with a solid weight nested against the back of her neck. 

She blinked, then she saw a black wing spread over her face from behind her shoulder, its owner sound asleep with his beak resting on the side of her head. She tilted her head, and felt the raven twitch and stir, pause, and then spring to his feet and back away in a hurry.

Maleficent rolled on her other side, leaning her cheek in her hand, and raised an eyebrow at the flustered raven, busy ruffling his feathers. She blew a small whirl of magic in his direction, and the black shape of the bird grew and shifted, until a man was sitting in front of her, cross-legged, running his hands through his hair with no less agitation.

“What was that about?” Maleficent asked.

Diaval looked away. 

“I'm sorry. I, uhm... you were having another nightmare. I thought I could help. I wasn't planning on dozing off like that...”

As he spoke, Maleficent realized she was feeling well-rested, for maybe the first time in weeks. In months. Her mind felt clear, bright. It made her realize just how much of a toll the nightmares had taken on her until now. It was... surprising. 

Her thoughts had to be transparent, because Diaval had noticed as well and had stopped apologizing, asking instead “Did it help? You seemed to grow calmer, that's why I stayed there.” He grinned, looking proud. “It helped, didn't it?”

“Mh. Maybe.”

Maleficent glanced at the mountains. The sun had just started peeking out. She decided she could do with a little more resting there.

Diaval lied down on his back next to her, putting his hands under his head to cushion it. He glanced at her.

“Do you want me to do that again, Mistress? When you have troubles sleeping.”

Maleficent pondered his proposal. It felt like something (a weakness) she shouldn't indulge. But...

She reached to pick from the ground a black feather Diaval had lost, rolled it between her fingers.

Chosen to become her wings, after all. And she let him perch on her shoulder already, from time to time. This wasn't so different.

“Just don't try to make a nest on my back or something like that. If I find a single twig in my hair...”

“Don't worry, Mistress. Hey, I can sing you lullabies. I'm good at crow lullabies.”

“Diaval.”

“Just saying.”


End file.
